


Need You Now

by Thuri



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-18
Updated: 2011-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:55:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thuri/pseuds/Thuri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a little after one, Charles is a little drunk, and he needs Erik now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need You Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [i_know_its_0ver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_know_its_0ver/gifts).



> Written for i_know_its_0ver, because she is my muse. For her prompt: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eM213aMKTHg DRUNK!CHARLES AND HIS EMO FEELINGS.

He didn't even have a photograph. Times like this, watching the rain slide down the windows of his study, whiskey a warm burn in his belly, the chess set lit by the soft fire, Charles thought he regretted that most. It just didn't seem right, he thought with wry amusement. If this were a bad movie, a novel like those Raven had often made him read to her, he would have a much stained, worn photograph, perhaps in a silver frame. Perhaps much folded and pulled from his wallet.

A photograph over which to sigh, to mourn. A well-loved face caught under glass. One he could trace the lines of, could talk to, could lose himself in. But there'd been no time for that, when he'd been with Erik. They hadn't needed photographs, they'd had each other.

Instead he had his memories, images in his mind that pressed down on him, pressed in, all overlaid with those last moments on the beach. That last, brief contact, before Erik had disappeared from his life.

And yes, he'd sent his teleporter back, had him take Charles to a hospital, bring the children as well. He'd somehow arranged the specialists, everything to oversee his recovery. But he hadn't come himself.

Charles took another long, bitter swallow of whiskey, trying to ignore the urges the alcohol brought. Not that he could completely blame the deep need to reach out to Erik, to try to touch his mind on intoxication. Not when it was always with him, to some degree. But his control slipped some, when he imbibed, and he knew it.

In fact, he couldn't fully deny it was why he'd begun drinking in the first place tonight. He wanted so to feel Erik again, to touch his mind. To see what he still felt, what he thought. Charles couldn't deny he was gone, his absence a hole in his life, his heart. But how did Erik himself feel? Was he glad? Did he have regrets?

Or did he think himself well free of the naive boy who'd thought to save him and failed?

Charles closed his eyes, running one hand over the cool metal armrest of his wheelchair. He'd paid for his failure, of course...but Erik had lost more, he thought. Had he finally lost himself beneath the rage, the pain? Had killing Shaw killed the man Charles loved?

He very much feared it had. And feared, even more, that if Erik were to return, to offer himself, ask Charles to go with him...that Charles wouldn't resist. Even if the light within the other man's soul had been extinguished.

A chill against Charles's face was the first hint he'd let tears slip free, and he raised his hand, wiping them away once more. It was over. Over, he should accept that. But it was late, he was a little drunk...and he needed Erik. Needed his strength, his surety, his smile...his touch.

Shaking his head, sharply, he tried to deny, even to himself, as he let his mind reach out. As he opened himself, awareness slipping from the mansion, from his sleeping and restless students alike, further. Further and further, rippling over the next estate, the closest town, encountering and rejecting the bright spots of humanity and mutant alike as it encountered them.

And then...there. A familiar pull, one he allowed to draw him in. Not Erik, but Raven. She pulsed in his mind, stronger, brighter than he'd ever known her before. Lightly, he touched her thoughts, finding them full of satisfaction, of physical exhaustion. She'd been training, he realized, hard, physical training to give her the combat skills he'd feared to train her in. So Erik had given her that, as well.

Leaving his sister to her happiness, he stretched out more. Until, close by, the bright, shining quicksilver of Erik's mind met his gentle probing. He hesitated, knowing he shouldn't. He _shouldn't._ They were not quite enemies, now, on different sides of the coming conflict. He would try to protect humanity, to work for coexistence. And Erik...would not.

But wasn't he allowed some small measure of selfishness? He'd given up his lover, his sister, his legs to this cause...wasn't he allowed some comfort?

Another tear spilled as he slipped carefully, stealthily, into Erik's awareness, letting the sense of his presence surround him completely. He touched no memory, blocked the other man's thoughts, and simply experienced him, as if he were in the same room, not speaking but _there_.

Charles held the tenuous contact as long as he dared, before letting it slip away, coming back to himself, his face wet, his throat thick. So he was not one of Raven's heroines, shedding tears over a faded photograph.

Instead, he cried over a fading memory, an echo of what might have been.

 _Erik_.


End file.
